


Doctor Andonuts

by daphnerunning



Category: Mother 2: Gyiyg no Gyakushuu | EarthBound
Genre: Aliens, Angst, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-10
Updated: 2011-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They think I'm the mad old inventor who blew up his house because he saw evil robots from the future. The only reason they're not laughing is because they're scared."</p><p>Jeff questions his sanity. Tony watches alien soap operas. Somehow, they save the world again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Andonuts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pengiesama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengiesama/gifts).



> For Pengiesama's birthday, I wrote her a fanfiction. Since she is a generous and gracious Pengie, she told me I could post it for all the internets to, ah, enjoy.
> 
> Enjoy the trip through many different genres, fake science, flashbacks, and the future that was never supposed to come.

_"BEE ba bee dee NA-AAH! BEE ba bee dee NA-AAH! BEE ba bee dee NA-AAH!"_

Tony froze in mid-movement, his hand halfway between a microscope and a petri dish. Every researcher and unpaid intern in the greenhouse was staring at him, as his pocket cheerfully blasted a midi version of the Runaway Five's newest single.

"I had to leave mine at Registration," a young man with a blond ponytail muttered to the girl next to him.

Tony's face flushed red. "I'm sorry," he said, fishing in his pocket. "I usually flip it onto silent, but only my family has this number, and they know only to call in case of an emergency--"

"Dr. Cameron," an intern interrupted, "you don't have to apologize. We work for you, remember?"

"Oh. Ah, right. Thank you, Shelby." The number on the display screen was unfamiliar. That was enough of an oddity to make him hurry down a row of Fruiting Ferns, taking advantage of their natural sound-blocking properties. "Hello?"

"Who is this?"

Tony frowned. "You called me. This is Tony Cameron. How did you get this number?"

"Are you any relation to Jeff Andonuts?"

Something about the strange voice made him think the other man was annoyed that he couldn't call Jeff by a longer name. _Sorry, whoever you are. He's not a Jeffrey. He's just my Jeff._ "Has something happened to him?"

"I need to know if you're any legal relation to Mr. Andonuts."

Sensing his agitation, a long frond unfurled, reaching to caress his hand. Tony didn't notice. _He's hurt. He's dead. He's missing. He's got a speeding ticket. Do official-sounding men call secret phone numbers to notify relations if someone gets a speeding ticket?_ Surely they didn't. The way Jeff drove, Tony's phone would never have stopped ringing. "I'm his partner. What's happened to him?"

There was a miniscule silence on the other end of the phone. "Business partner?"

"Sure, if you like. What's happened to Jeff?"

"Mr. Cameron--"

"Doctor Cameron, or Tony, please. Mr. Cameron is my father. What's happened to Jeff?"

"I'm afraid I can't release that information to someone who--"

"What's your name and rank, Officer?"

Another pause. "Detective Sergeant Wilkins. Thistleland Yard."

Tony struggled to keep his voice down. Given the fact that a constable was trying his hardest not to tell him where Jeff was or whether he was all right, he thought he was doing a fairly admirable job. "Well, Detective Sergeant Wilkins, deliberately withholding information from the person listed as primary contact on every legal and medical form he's filled out in the last decade might look a wee bit bad for you, if your supervisor were to hear about it."

"Mr. Cameron--"

" _Doctor._ "

Pause. " _Doctor_ Cameron," the voice conceded, with a hint of steel, "are you threatening me?"

"I don't know. Are you going to tell me what's happened to Jeff?"

The speaker on the other end was muffled. Tony couldn't make out proper words, but he thought he heard at least two other voices. He drummed his fingers on the countertops, restraining the urge to jump into his car and go bloody well _find_ Jeff. _Just like before. I'd go anywhere to find him, if only I knew where to start looking. Bugger all, I knew I should have stayed home today. Yes, the new genome could probably cure liver cancer, but...but Jeff wasn't wearing a shirt._

The phone cleared, and Detective Sergeant Wilkins' voice came back through the speaker. "Doctor Cameron, we'd appreciate it if you'd come down to the station. We need to speak to you."

Liver cancer could wait. Tony was in the car before Wilkins had finished his sentence.

 

Cold walls. Water that tasted like metal. Unfamiliar noises, murky through the ringing in his ears. Afterimages still burned into his eyes. Papers and forms and computers he could take apart with his teeth. Blurred lights. Ammonia in his nose. Voices coming through feet of water. Iron slamming shut.

 

 _BEE ba bee dee NA-AAH!_

Tony nearly crashed his car, fumbling for the phone. "Hello?"

"Tony? Where's Jeff?"

He cursed under his breath.

"Language!"

"Sorry, Paula. It's only that I don't know."

"Where are you?"

Usually, Tony would have answered evasively. He would have assured Paula that he had the situation under control, that there was no need to bother. But he was confused and afraid, and defaulted to the truth. "Pulling up outside the police station, just north of Foxbridge Universi--hello?"

He should have known better. By the time he parked his car and put money in the meter, three figures were waiting for him in front of the station.

"He's not answering us," Paula said, as though their conversation hadn't been interrupted. Along with a pleated skirt and crisply-ironed blouse, she wore the worried expression she always got when her psychic abilities let her down. Ness used to call it her "mother face," but he couldn't do that anymore. Now they all got to see her real "mother face" every day, around the boys.

"How did you know something was wrong? Why did you call me?" Tony asked, taking the stairs two at a time.

Puu gave him a little smile. He'd only grown taller, stronger, and more handsome, which Tony would have been a lot more eager to see if he didn't have a pasty Foggylander gentleman waiting somewhere. "We check in each morning," he said, with only the faintest trace of an accent.

"Just to make sure we're all right." Ness had clearly come from work; the logo on his shirt read "ONETT LITTLE LEAGUE," with a smaller enscription of "COACH NESS" over his heart. Tony had only seen him once or twice since the wedding, and never spoke to him on the phone. He was nice enough; they just never seemed to have anything to talk about.

"I didn't know that. Jeff never told me."

Ness shrugged. "We've always been all right before now. We relaxed a little after the ten-year anniversary."

The door was heavy. Tony didn't even notice. "Detective Sergeant Wilkins?"

An officious-looking little man stepped forward. He was exactly what Tony had envisioned over the phone; he had a very shiny badge, a small potbelly, and beady little eyes. "Anthony Cameron?"

"Where's Jeff?" Tony asked, by way of introducing himself.

Wilkins' eyes narrowed. "Who are all these people? Are _any_ of them legal relations to Andonuts?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Paula's eyes flash with anger. Ness laid a calming hand on her arm, and they had one of those weird silent conversations that other couples always seemed to master after a few years together. Of course, in Ness and Paula's case, they probably _were_ having a silent conversation, with grammar.

 _I knew this would happen someday. I wanted to get it taken care of, but there was never time, and Jeff never worried about it..._ "Detective Sergeant Wilkins," he said instead, trying to keep from screaming in frustration, "may I explain something to you?"

There was the briefest of hesitations before Wilkins nodded.

"Good. Thank you. Now, I know that Jeff isn't dead, because my friends here would know, given how psychic they all are."

Wilkins shot the other three a wary glance. Tony liked seeing him nervous. "I also know that if he were able to, he would have contacted me by now. Had he been so seriously injured that consciousness was impossible, I'd have gotten that phone call from a doctor, and not from a member of the constabulary. So, this leads me to the conclusion that you've got Jeff in custody, either for his own good or because he's done something."

Wilkins started to speak. Tony held up a hand to forestall him. "The thing you need to understand is this: there is nothing  you could have done that's _more_ dangerous to yourself and others than locking Jeff Andonuts in a cell without letting him talk to his friends."

Paula smiled. Even with the slightest hints of laugh lines around her mouth, her smile was genuine and warm, even when she was lying. "It's not a threat, Officer. It's a warning."

Puu nodded solemnly. "Perhaps you would be so good as to elaborate the charges against our friend?"

Wilkins' eyes didn't miss the ruby drop in Puu's ear, the slender golden symbol of state around his forehead. Finally, after another too-cheery smile from Ness, he relented. "Andonuts has been charged with four counts of attempted murder, four counts of assault with a deadly weapon, and one count of arson with intent to incite terror. As well as nearly three hundred past charges of disturbing the peace," he added.

Tony's jaw dropped. "Jeff isn't a terrorist! How _dare_ you!"

Wilkins reached up and clicked on the volume of a battered old television set in the corner of the room. It was showing the news. A pretty correspondant was clutching a microphone in front of a hollowed-out crater where the last charred remains of a house's frame were crumbling to the ground. Tony hardly recognized it. _Not every day you see the foundation of your own house. Even rarer that you see it without the house in the way._ "Where's Jeff?"

The man mumbled something about broken records, but beckoned him along, visibly annoyed now. He led Tony down so many corridors he wished for an Exit Mouse, then stopped next to a burly pair of guards.

At a nod, one of them unlocked the heavy iron door, and Tony moved to run inside.

The other guard stopped him with a broad hand. "Not so fast. Have to make sure you're not carrying weapons."

Two minutes later, a well and truly frisked Tony finally made it inside the room--no, the cell.  It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, to finally make out the huddled figure in the corner.

 

 

"Hi."

The boy didn't look up. He was slender for his age; the other boys called him a stickboy. He rubbed at his nose with the back of a grubbby hand and said, somewhere in the direction of his knees, "They took my glasses."

Tony scowled. "Who did?"

"Dunno. Big kid. Brown hair. Fat."

"Who, Charlie?"

The boy shrugged. His hands were white-knuckled from holding onto his shins. There had been six of the boys in any case. It didn't matter what name he said. This boy would only be like them, too.

He didn't look up for several seconds. Sure enough, he heard the crunch of shoes on gravel as the new boy walked away. If they weren't mean to him, they walked away.

There had to be a way; the man would know a way. He was always happy. The matrons had told him that the man was his father, that he was a great mind. Jeff could be like that, too. The man didn't need anyone to make him happy. Jeff could be alone like that.

"Oy! Charlie! Look at me when I'm talking to you, you great lump! Hey, don't run away from me!"

Jeff blinked owlishly at the scene unfolding across the playground. All he could see was a tiny green blur capped with red and black, shaking a fist at a green blur about twice his size. Then others came, and the little green-red-black blur was facing them, too. _He's going to get hurt. He was nice, and he's going to get hurt, and it's my fault._

He scrambled to his feet, only to trip over the balance beam he hadn't seen. He threw out his hands to break his fall, but strong arms caught him, set him back on his feet.

Charlie set him down, then clumsily put Jeff's glasses back on his ears. "Sorry," he muttered, face bright red.

"Aye, we're sorry." Jeff didn't know the names of the other boys, but recognized their faces. They all apologized, one by one, checking with the small green boy to see if they were forgiven.

The black on top was a hat, Jeff saw with his renewed eyesight. There had been a hat with his school uniform, but the matrons had all said no one really wore them.

The hatted boy nodded, arms crossed over his chest. "Good. All right then. Who wants to play a game of rounders?"

He glared at the boys until someone picked Jeff first.

 _I'm going to be like that someday. I'm going to see someone in trouble, and I'm going to be brave for them._

 

 

To Tony's eye, Jeff looked exactly the same, huddled against the cold cell wall, as he had at the age of six in the playground. Twenty years might have separated man and boy, but the posture, the shivering, even the blurry eyesight was the exact same. "Oh, Jeff!"

Jeff flinched when Tony took him in his arms, but Tony didn't mind. Lots of people flinched when he hugged them. It hadn't made him stop yet. He knew that Jeff would figure out who he was eventually, would struggle through whatever haze had fogged his mind into understanding.

After a few minutes, it came. "T-tony?"

"I'm here."

"You're here!"

"I know, love."

"I'm sorry."

Tony didn't release him. If anything, he held Jeff more tightly. "What happened? Why'd you blow up the house?"

Jeff shuddered in his arms, and buried his face in Tony's shoulder. "There were...men outside. You'd gone. I...I think some of them were wearing--I don't know, masks. Or prosthetics. I saw metal in their faces. I thought they were Starmen. I thought they came back for me."

Tony's heart ached. His poor, bruised, scarred Jeff. He'd talked to Paula about it, when the nightmares hadn't gone away after a year. She'd told him about Psychic Strain. It could affect even those who didn't have psychic powers, if they'd been through sufficient trauma.

Jeff didn't talk about Giygas. Not ever. Given how much he did tell Tony, that was a significant omission.

Jeff said something into Tony's shoulder.

"Sorry, what?"

"They think I'm mad."

"No one thinks you're--"

"I know what it looks like. They think I'm the mad old inventor who blew up his house because he saw evil robots from the future. The only reason they're not laughing is because they're scared."

 

 

"Did you build that all by yourself?" The Dean shook his head slowly, admiringly. "You're just like your father, that's for sure."

They all said that. The Andonuts men were two of a kind. It was as if Jeff had been a smaller, younger clone of his father, not that he'd ever counted out the possibility.

He'd been proud of it. His father, the man who wrote the checks for him to attend school (or had at least invented a robot to sign the checks), was a brilliant man. He was proud to have the name Andonuts. He was proud to _be_ an Andonuts.

Then he'd met his father, and all the things he'd feared about himself had been true.

Tony dismissed them all. He laughed away the idea that Jeff was focused to the point of obsession on any project--that was discipline, he said, and the world at large could use a bigger helping. He paid no attention to the minor forgetfulness that Jeff displayed; what use was the name of a certain classmate, compared to the great mysteries of the world? Of course Jeff had forgotten. He was only impressed Jeff didn't forget more.

And he put up with more, when they built the house. He never asked why Jeff needed the triple-reinforced steel in the walls of his lab, or the secret compartments in the walls, or the insulated soundproofing. Tony trusted him. He trusted Jeff's sanity.

Jeff only wished he could trust his own sanity.

The Dean walked away from the science fair, leaving Jeff's self-contained fully-randomized lasers buzzing behind him. Jeff's eyesight was awful, but his hearing was excellent. He heard the Dean's assistant fall into step.

"Have you actually met Dr. Andonuts, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Brilliant man. Mad, of course."

"And the son?"

"Likely the same. Watch him."

 

 

"They're watching."

"Who is?"

"I'm _not_ insane!" The words were clear and sharp, and loud enough that Tony flinched back. "I know you're thinking it!"

"I'm not! I never have! Jeff, you know that!"

"Just because I know what to look for and they don't--they think I can't see them? They think I haven't been waiting for this for the last decade? I know what to look for!" His eyes were wide and frenzied. Whether it was because of the missing glasses or his mental state, his eyes were unfocused, twitching back and forth.

Tony hadn't felt this helpless in years. Most of him, the parts that had been dealing with a cheerful, blindingly intelligent young man who had somehow managed to salvage social skills out of his odd childhood, could only stare in confusion.

But the part of Tony that had taken care of a blindingly intelligent, painfully shy, emotionally neglected child knew what to do. He waited, and listened, and demanded nothing. Tony remembered what Puu had said about post-trauma flashbacks. He knew it all too well; sometimes, even being in a small room without knowing where the light switch was had been enough to leave Tony in a cold sweat, stuck in a memory of green tubes and soulless, metallic faces.

Finally, Jeff relaxed into his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he muttered over and over. "I thought I was over this."

Tony shrugged with the shoulder Jeff wasn't leaning on. "I don't mind."

"I blew up the house."

"We'll get a new one."

"All our things were in there."

"I don't care, Jeff."

"You love that house."

"I love you more."

Jeff drew in a deep breath, then sat back on his heels.

Tony got his first good look, now that his eyes had adjusted to the dimness. Jeff was covered with a fine layer of soot. His hair was mussed, matted on one side. There were raw marks around his wrists, where he'd been handcuffed. He'd been working in the basement lab; Tony could see the gaps in soot where he'd been wearing the goggles. "Don't worry," he said, almost as a reflex. "I'll get you out of here."

"How did you know I was here?"

Tony was running through the list of contact numbers in his head already. His mother had a rolodex full of excellent lawyers, but most of them specialized in property and estate law. His father, a hospital administrator, probably knew a few--wasn't Mr. Edmunds who came for tea a lawyer? He'd always been kind. "Hmm? Oh, they called me."

"How?"

"It's called a phone, Jeff. The thing you're so reluctant to use." Mrs. MacMillan always said that her daughter was a lawyer--of course, she'd been trying to get Tony to meet her daughter since they were both eight years old, and he really didn't want to give in just yet.

"But you were at work."

"They called my mobile," Tony answered, with only half his attention. It was too bad that the world had forgotten so much of what the Four had done, over the years. Of course, none of them were too keen on publicity, so it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise.

"How'd they get the number?"

If only people knew what his Jeff had done for the world, they'd never call him paranoid or terrorist for--

"Wait, what?" Tony jolted out of his thoughts, staring at Jeff.

"I said, how'd they get your number? To your mobile?"

"You didn't give it to them?"

"No. They didn't ask me anything. They just threw me in here."

Tony's brow furrowed. "You didn't have it on you? Did they take your phone?"

"Er. I think my phone was in the house when I...ah..."

"Understood." Tony's mind started buzzing, filling with possibilities and warnings. He stood up, tried the handle on the door, then tried knocking.

There was no answer.

"Hello? I'm done visiting," he called. "I'd like to come out now."

As he'd half-expected, there was no answer. "Jeff, get up. We've got to get out of here."

Jeff's eyes went wide, and his jaw set in triumphant determination. "I was right, wasn't I? There's something wrong!"

"Everyone knows the police don't call you when someone gets arrested, they go to see you in person. How could I be so stupid? I was worried, that's how. Come on, we've got to go."

"How? We're locked in. I can't even see."

Wordlessly, Tony took Jeff's spare glasses out of his coat pocket and passed them over.

Once more framed by thick lenses, Jeff's eyes blinked, then focused on him. Then, one corner of his mouth turned up. "Right. Give me a boost."

"To where? There's no window."

"Not looking for a window. There, to the security camera."

Tony complied, huffing out a breath when Jeff's foot slipped and wound up in his abdomen.

"Sorry. Just a bit further, can you?"

"Course I can," Tony wheezed, arms trembling. "Are you going to turn it off?"

Using just his fingers, without any tools, Jeff pried the security camera away from the wall in less than ten seconds. Two screws clinked down on the concrete floor and rolled away. "All right, you can let me down. Can I borrow your penknife?"

"They took it away from me. I can get it back when we leave."

"Right. Then give me the other."

"What?"

Jeff gave him a pointed look.

Tony flushed. "That's...that's ceremonial. You're not supposed--oh, all right." He hiked up one leg of his pants, then removed the tiny sghean dhu from the top of his sock and passed it over.

"Thanks, love."

"What are you doing to it?"

Jeff's reply was muffled around various wires and components, as he stripped coatings and held bolts with his teeth. "Mosht applianchesh aren't deshigned very creati'ly. Meansh you can redeshign them wi'ou' much effort. For ecshample, anyshing wif a transhmi'er--"

"Know what? Tell me when you're done."

Jeff nodded, intent on his work. Tony worried about his eyes in the dim light, but at least it wasn't past midnight this time.

He danced between the balls of his feet, keeping watch on the door, ready to dazzle whatever foe might come through with a display of good old Thistleland-style fisticuffs. They were a lot like fisticuffs in most of Foggyland, but with more kicks to the groin. "Just to be clear," he said over his shoulder, "this was a trap?"

"Oh, it's a trap." Jeff's eyes sparkled, even without an apparent light souce. "And they think it's for us."

Tony grinned at him. This was the Jeff that had left Snow Wood in the middle of the night, and had come back a battle-scarred young man. This was the Jeff that the other three had seen, but he had always missed. "So, is that going to be a gun?"

"Gun? Tony, it's a camera. I'm going to open the door with it."

"What? Oh for bloody--build something useful, will you? And give me the long skinny piece right there."

Ten minutes later, the lock was a jimmied mess on the floor, the door was open, and Jeff was holding a little machine he swore was going to be useful. Tony stashed his improvised lockpick where he usually kept his sock knife, which he'd allowed Jeff to keep.

Heavy boots stomped behind them, and both men spun around. Detective Sergeant Wilkins stood there, a pistol in his hand. "Now, then," he said, without any inflection in the words whatsoever, "why don't you just get back in that cell like you're supposed to?"

"Supposed to? Says who?"

Wilkins' head jerked oddly, and a vein in his forehead twitched. "Get back in the cell."

"And what? Wait for whoever it is to show up?"

Wilkins' upper lip pulled back from his teeth slightly. His voice changed, modulated down, and took on a strange accent. "We were not prepared for the strength of your response, Doctor Andonuts. Were you aware that your little explosion knocked out all our communications for nearly an hour?"

Jeff pushed up his glasses. "That wasn't an accident."

"Very clever, Doctor Andonuts. Our research appears incomplete. We must study you further."

"I think I'll decline, if it's all the same to you."

"I am afraid, Doctor Andonuts, that this is not a request. We have twenty-four ships prepared to land on our signal. And when we report what a fertile planet this is to our homeworld, more will come."

Tony started to respond, but Jeff put a hand on his arm. "Twenty-four ships?"

Wilkins blinked. "Yes, Doctor Andonuts. Twenty-four."

Then, Jeff started to smile. "You're the Axtreli."

"How--"

"Jeff, you mean this man is a third-rank SCiO?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

Tony beamed. "Oh, brilliant!"

Wilkins' face was turning purple with rage. "How do you know my rank? How do you know of the Axtreli?"

Tony snorted. "Jeff and I have been monitoring all the transmissions shooting by the planet for years. Oh, you're our favorite!"

"I like the fact that you apparently evolved from sonic waveforms," Jeff said, still not lowering the contraption in his hands. "Tony mostly likes the military uniforms you've developed. And your soap operas."

Tony sighed. "I could listen to 'Ripples Awash' for days. I did, when I had the flu. However," he said, his voice taking on a stern, lecturing quality, "neither of us really approve of your conquering tendencies. Or the racial slurs--really, you'd think you'd evolved beyond that by now. I mean, Qara Ripple's stepdaughter's father's cousin just harmonized with a Gvisshrian! There's no need to call them pservleee, even if they do say it on the news. And the way audiences reacted to the half Wyckwias wavelet was just...well, you know what you did."

"Speaking of what you did," Jeff added, "release the police officer from your control."

Wilkins, who had been staring open-mouthed at the pair, sputtered, "Or you'll what?"

Jeff hefted the little machine he'd made out of part of a surveillance camera. "Well, I'd intended this to annoy anyone who threatened us. It was going to make a horrible screeching noise. But then again, I didn't know you were the Axtreli. Come to think of it, this might have a slightly different affect on you."

"Jeff! Do you mean that this could disrupt the residual sonic waveforms at the core of the SCiO's matter?"

"Hmm. I'm actually not sure. We could try it."

"Oh, could we?"

As one, they both turned to Wilkins.

He tensed for a moment, then shuddered and went limp. Tony rushed forward to catch the falling man, and checked to make sure he was still breathing. "He's just unconscious," he reported. "It was probably quite a shock for him, being taken over like that."

 _"DOCTOR ANDONUTS."_

The voice shook the foundations of the police station. Tony's heart hurt for a second, as if he'd been standing too close to speakers at a concert.

Jeff grabbed his arm. "This way. Hurry."

They ran, hitting several dead ends and retracing. Around one corner, they heard screams, then thuds. When they rounded the bend, they saw Ness shaking out his hand, the knuckles a little bloody. Paula and Puu stood on either side of him, and all three looked out of breath. Six policemen lay on the ground, at least two of which bore forming bruises in the shape of Ness's fist.

And of course, they were already quarreling. "You shouldn't have hit them! I could have put them down easier!"

"But that could have killed them."

"They pulled guns on us!"

"You both should have let me handle it. The techniques I've learned are so advanced, I could have swatted a fly off your nose at a hundred paces."

"Why the hell wouldn't you just tell me I had a fly on my nose?"

 _"DOCTOR ANDONUTS."_

The voice shook the ground again, but Jeff didn't seem to notice. The others did, and paused in their conversation long enough to look around.

"Jeff! Tony! You're all right!" Ness's face was relieved, if a little sweaty. "I hate to tell you this, but I think this is a trap."

"It's the Axtreli," Jeff and Tony said as one. None of the other three reacted.

"Seriously?" Jeff demanded, and took off running again, not waiting for everyone to follow. "Don't you people keep up with what's going on at all?"

"Sure we do! I mean, I vote!"

"Jeff, where are we going?"

Before Jeff could answer, he stopped, just outside of a room marked "Generator." "This is it. Can someone break the door down?"

"Don't you have some sort of machine for that?"

"I would have, but _someone_ said we needed a weapon instead."

Tony threw up his hands. "Call me crazy."

No one did. Tony felt a little cheated. Before he could say anything, a white-hot bolt of lightning shot out of nowhere and sheared the lock from the door. When their eyes adjusted after the light, lock--and doorknob--lay in a smeltering blob of metal on the floor.

 _"DOCTOR ANDONUTS."_

Jeff aimed a kick at the door, then let out a little whimper. "Er. I think that door is a pull."

It was, and they did, and it opened. Inside, metal boxes and gears clicked and whirled, and little volts of electricity sparked from one contraption to another.

"This doesn't look like any generator I've seen," Ness said.

Jeff nodded. "It isn't. It's their syncing apparatus. They use it to sync the electrical emissions generated by sonic-waveform-based organisms with the electrical synapse activity generated by more standard non-telepathic carbon-based lifeforms, keyed to the pre-established patterns of the dominant subset of species on the selected planet, in a matrix of integration and domination."

There was a moment of silence. Then, Paula asked, "Could you explain that, please?"

"I thought I just did."

Tony intervened. "He means that the Axtreli use this machine to take over people's thoughts."

"Tony, I _just_ said that."

Puu flexed his hands, and a couple of his fingers popped. "Shall we destroy it?"

"Sounds like a good idea to--"

"Wait!" Jeff threw out an arm, and they paused. "I have an idea."

 _"DOCTOR ANDONUTS."_

Jeff grabbed a piece of machinery that even Tony, who had lived with Jeff since he was a child, could only have called a "thingie." He fiddled with a couple knobs, tapped it with his finger, and said into it, "This is Jeff Andonuts, seeking contact with the Axtreli PSiC of the sixty-seventh fleet."

The voice reverberated again, but more localized in scope. The Axtreli had located them. _"DOCTOR ANDONUTS. OUR RESEARCH STATES THAT YOU POSE A SIGNIFICANT THREAT TO ANY ATTEMPTED TAKEOVER OF THIS PLANET. WILL YOU CONCEDE THE PLANET OR OFFER YOUR SKILLS TO THE AXTRELI?"_

Tony saw Ness reach for Paula's hand. They knew imminent danger when they heard it. Puu took a deep breath, preparing for battle.

"I will not."

 _"THEN YOU WILL BE ELIMINATED."_

"Before you do that," Jeff said, his voice calm, "think about how I'm talking to you right now. I'm in your generator room." His fingertips skipped nimbly over a few more thingies, stopped at a whatsit, and cranked a gizmo. They tapped over the surface of the alien machinery almost as if he were typing. "This is a pretty nice transmitter, and already coded to the codex of your soniforms. I could dissonant you out of existence with just the pulse of a button."

 _I'd have gone for sarcasm,_ Tony thought fondly. _Said something like, "gee, it would be a SHAME if someone messed up all your...knobblies, or whatever." But his way is good too._

 _"RESEARCH INDICATES THAT YOU ARE NOT A MAN OF WAR, DOCTOR ANDONUTS. YOU ARE INTELLIGENT, BUT HARMLESS."_

Jeff's mouth fixed into a grin that showed a lot of teeth, and very little humor. "You made a mistake," he said quietly. "I'm Jeff. Doctor Andonuts is my father."

He flipped a switch. A quiet, high-pitched ringing noise filled the air, as if just above the spectrum of what humans could hear.

That was all. A few minutes later, he flipped the switch off again.

Tony sighed. "No more Ripples Awash, then?"

"There'll be reruns."

"Jeff, did you kill them?" Paula asked, her mother face back on.

Jeff shook his head. "I calibrated it to one milihertz off. It's enough to send a very stern warning. I'll send my missive off to Axtreli high command this evening. If the PSiC follows protocol, they'll have retreated halfway across our solar system by then."

"Will they?"

"Oh, yes," Tony confirmed. "The Axtreli are sticklers for protocol. And nice uniforms," he added dreamily.

Puu looked around, a bit disappointed. "I can't help but feel that I was unhelpful. My friend, I have always pledged my body and skills whenever you may have a need. I fear I've let you down."

"All I did was zap a doorknob," Paula added.

"At least you used your powers. I just punched a couple policemen." Ness scratched the back of his neck. "Come to think of it..."

Paula nodded, then took his arm. "Exactly. We'd better be getting home before they ask a lot of uncomfortable questions. Besides, the boys will be out of kindergarten in half an hour or so."

Just like that, they were all gone. Tony had forgotten how easy it was for telepaths to come and go with just a twirl and a cry of "Farewell!"

"Well," Tony said at last, "I'd best be calling my mother's lawyers. There's going to be hell to clean up here. Maybe we can spend some time up in Thistleland, just until everything dies down? There's a Roaming Disgruntled Beanstalk I want to hunt down and--"

Jeff pulled him into a kiss, cutting off whatever else he was going to say. Tony let him, pleased despite the interruption. He could always talk later.

When they pulled apart, Jeff said quietly, "It's you."

"What is?"

"What keeps me sane. What keeps me from being like him. It's always been you."

Tony smiled, and took his hand. "Let's go home."

And, despite the fact that the house they'd bought together was so many cinders and ashes, they did.


End file.
